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User blog:KnightReturns422/Star Wars: The Old Republic: Tales of Perspectives, Volume I
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....... More than three millennia ago before the cataclysmic Clone Wars and the rise of the tyrannical Galactic Empire, the Republic and its Jedi allies fight against an enemy seeking vengeance and dominance: the reborn Sith Empire. Battles have raged across countless worlds, with both the Republic and Empire at a deadlock. With no clear victor, blood has been spilt on all sides: Republic, Imperial, Jedi, Sith.... and civilians. The Treaty of Coruscant has brought the bloodshed to an end, yet it is only temporary. With the Sith Empire victorious, the Republic humiliated and its Jedi protectors mauled, it is only a matter of time before both sides challenge each other to assert its influence on the known galaxy.... 1. Descent Coruscant, 3642 BBY, five months after the outbreak of hostilities. ' Jedi Master Tarasimin Redbreak approached the entrance to the Senate, wearing a look of anticipation and concern. Answering a call from Master Satele to report to the Council of War chamber on Coruscant, she knew it was time for another weekly war gathering. The twenty-four year old reached the entrance through the durasteel plated doors. Senators, aides, astromechs and protocol droids filled a large part of the hall; not one of them seemed to take notice that a revered Jedi was in their midst: they were far too busy with their own interests than with a Jedi who had done so much to advance the cause. Tarasimin didn't care: she wasn't here for praise and attention. She was here to fulfill a chosen duty--a duty to fight. She approached a sidehall and walked down a narrow corridor, with little to no persons to be seen. As she walked, Tarasimin, or Tasmin, as she likes to be called, passed by a mirror and stopped, looking at herself. Tall, young, brown haired tied back into a small ponytail, she nevertheless possessed an aura of wisdom and strength. Of course, those traits ran strong in her family; the Redbreak line bred several fine Jedi, with Tasmin, and her little brother Baritin being one of them. She shook her head: fine? How could she be "fine" when war was declared between the Republic and Sith Empire? When she felt the full extent of the Sith? When she saw that the Jedi could be easily turned? Tasmin never aired these thoughts aloud--they would only cause concern among her fellow peers, but Baritin knew better: they were siblings after all, and he himself was also strained.... in a different perspective. No. She sould not dwell on it. She would not. All that mattered now was that he was back, safe, and that's what all it mattered. But then, he would be called on again to serve, and Jedi Knights were in short supply. If Baritin went, then she would pray that the entirety of the Force would guide him no matter what. She reached the end of the sidehall, where two Coruscant guards, one human and one Zabrak stood, blasters held, but not exactly held in position as opposed to the ones Tasmin saw at the entrance to the Senate. She could see one of them wearing a bored expression, at least before they noticed her and stood upright, not wanting to display an appearance that would bring disgrace to the Guard. "Name and ID please", said the Zabrak, speaking in a professional tone, yet gruff tone while (in Tasmin's mind), trying to stifle a yawn. "Tarasimin Redbreak, Jedi Order", she said as she handed him her ID for scanning. "Accepted", said the Zabrak, once the scanning was completed. His counterpart pressed several buttons on a console that opened the door. Tasmin could see that the human was also trying to keep awake; she could also see that several pieces of his black hair were sticking out. Taking back the ID and securing it in her belt pouch, Tasmin emerged into a large circular chamber. Very little decoration was visible, save for several Republic and Jedi Order banners. In the center of the room stood a large and ciricular holotable that was currently off, and more than a dozen chairs. Built-in datapads were found on the table, with each located in front of the seat for the occupant. The occupants themselves ranged from eight to ten members at present. Tasmin scanned the room closely: Supreme Commander Jace Malcolm, who has succeeded the retired Rans was sitting at the front, deeply conversing with Satele Shan. Both looked weary, even more so than the guards outside. Tasmin knew that Satele had very little sleep, having noticed that during council meetings back on Tython, her eyes showed dark circles. Malcolm was similar, though his scars, those that he had earned during Alderaan in the last war, did much to hide this fact. Though Tasmin couldn't hear them, she could tell that they were in a serious conversation, with Satele's expression wearing that of a dark look, a look that Tasmin recalled vividly. At the left side of the room stood Ijaat Alnin, clad in Jedi robes designed for front line combat, talking with a T7 unit. Ijaat was one of few who had already made a noticeable impact, though like many, remained modest in his part. Tasmin could see that by the slight burns and singes on his cloak, (and thr slight bruises on his left cheek) he had just returned from some distant battlefield. She mused slightly; her brother Baritin had the same markings of war whenever she saw him returning. He was not at all concerned of his appearance, preferring to focus more on the task. Ijaat noticed Tasmin and nodded without a word. As she scanned the room once more, she could see famaliar faces: Admiral Bey'wan Aygo who defended Kuat from the recent Imperial invasion, Fleet Admiral Numinn of the Republic's Fifth Fleet, Jedi Knight Amos Kaller, a distinguished veteran from the last war. Tasmin noticed a slight gash across his right eye; he had most likely earned it from a duel. Commander Stenan Dreyard was next in Tasmin's line of vision: tall, young, dark skinned with short black hair and dressed in a typical officer's uniform, Stenan looked relaxed and well-rested. ''Probably on R&R for the time being, a luxury that many don't have. It was only after fifteen minutes, coupled with the arrival of several more people, that Malcolm turned his attention to the council members and beckoned them to take their seats. Tasmin sat in between Satele and Ijaat, while the others took what seats that suited their preference. "I would like to thank you all for attending", said Jace, wincing slightly. Despite the Med-Droids' efforts, the scars were still paining him. "I'm aware all of you are weary of this war, and that you have done much, but with the Sith Empire still a threat to the Republic, rest will have to wait." Tasmin looked more closely at the rest of the members. All wore looks of tiredness and (in some cases) grumpiness. One officer, General Taylus Ghem wore an expression so deeply in tune with sleepiness, that it looked as if he was about to drift away any moment. On the other hand, benteath the facade of tiredness stood ears that were active and ready to listen. If they were listening, that is. "Now, if you'll all look at your datapads before you. We have recieved numerous reports from field commanders from the Outer Rim. Colonel Jakob and the 3rd Division have successfully pushed out the Imperial occupation from Serenno and that a squad of Jedi Knights have successfully defeated Darths Bandin and Caras. And....." The rest of the meeting involved discussing numerous discrepancies of each report, identifying common patterns of weaknesses and rectifying them. Ijaat, Tasmin noted, remained active, making numerous suggestions, while others just listened. She smirked slightly: Ijaat was bright, brave and dedicated--characteristics that defined a Jedi. She often wondered if Ijaat would ever accept a seat on the Jedi Council: she had after all recommended him to Master Satele following the death of Jaric Kaedan on Ilum, and the council needed the best. ''He's too modest, that's the problem. ''No matter. Modesty wasn't going to work this time, especially since the Republic was gearing up for a prolonged war. 2. Rememberance of the Past '''Rannon, 3642 BBY, one week after the Emperor's capture He stood there, lightsaber in hand, standing alongside several other Jedi, preparing to take him in, with force if necessary. Baritin didn't see it coming. All he knew was that it was now or never. If he was captured, then it would all be over. The war would end sooner, the Sith Empire defeated, and everlasting peace for the Republic. But no, it was not to be. Instead, he became a puppet--a slave to him, manipulated, controlled.... unleashed. The Overseer punished him for his sloppiness. "Your blunder will cost you dearly if you continue with your preffered course of action!", he thundered as Baritin felt the eletrical surge coarsing through him, feeling intense pain. Baritin didn't resist, he couldn't, he was unable to. Something had shackled him, left him bound. More lightning was expelled from the Overseer's fingers. He was enjoying it, Baritin knew it. He was always sadistic with his students. No matter what he did, he always found fault and promptly punished them. There must be a way to resist, there must..... "Agh!" Baritin woke up suddenly, sweating profusely. Breathing slowly, he looked around. He was in a room, a room that didn't seem to resemble the chamber he was in with the Overseer. Instead, all he could see were bookshelves, a large closet and a balcony to his right, where he could distinctly hear water. Slowly, Baritin became to his senses: he wasn't in the space station at all. He was on Rannon, in his own room, at home, safe. Safe? He couldn't be safe! How could he if the dreams, or rather nightmares, came back to haunt him? Sunlight slowly started to drift into the room, and Baritin looked at his chrono: it was half past eight, and he had been asleep for ten hours. Ten hours. That's a miracle, given what I've been through. (To be Expanded) Category:Blog posts